Life Gets in the Way

I've been thinking of you all day.Really, I have.I get all the beautiful images of you,The friendship and the things thatAren't always within the usual four wallsOf friendship.

I get the memories of late night chats,And of early morning e-mails,And surprises along with them.The attachments in my Inbox,A photo of a nipple,A hand and fingers on your pussy.

And all you get is silence.

Life gets in the way,We all need to eat and have a roof,And I swear to you that this last weekHas been the busiest I can recall.

Explanations, not excuses.

And all you get is silence.

Life gets in the way,An ill child needs me at night,And did I mention that last week was...

Oh, yes, I did mention it. In thatTwo line e-mail that saidI miss youAnd then told you why I keepMissing you.

Life gets in the way.

Aren't you life too?Why don't I let you get in the wayOf all of the other distractions?Can't I answer my phone and say"I am busy"While I take the time to write to you,And give you something to think aboutIn those moments ofSilenceThat inevitably arrive.

Close the door.Lock the door.Turn on the webcam.

Can you see me now?A zipper undone, and pants dropped,My hand a blur on my hardness,My hand a blur because the frame-rate onMy video camera is too slow,And the resolution is knocked down a few too many notches,So that my video will be small enoughTo send by email.

Can you see me now?Frantic. Outside my locked door,Is the life that keeps getting in the way.Frantic. My hand stroking furiously.I started out soft, my mind wonderingAbout what lies beyond that locked door,But now, only you are in my thoughts.

Hard. Erect. Pointing directly atThe lens as I pause from my stroking,You see the first drops of wetness at my tip?Can you see my arousal,All because of you?

I return to my task, and this is no longerStroking.This is why they call it self-abuse.Jacking off.Jerking my cock fast and hard.

I need to cum for you.I want to cum for you.

There. The creamy puddle on my desk?I came for you.

Two minutes and forty seconds.

Clean up time.Editing time.Time for you, and not for the distractions.

But it is mid-day,And I have to open that door sometime.Eventually.

Sometime and eventually is now.

A click of the mouse,And I send you my few minutesOf not letting life get in the way.

I'm sorry. It is all I have.I'm sorry. Life does get in the way,And the rent, and the car payments, and the gas,And the electricity, the cable television, the cellphone...

The whole thing gets in the wayOf what really matters.

I'm still thinking of you,Even as my door is open,And the sounds of fax machines and copiers,Ringing phones and serious conversationEcho in the hallways outside my door andInvade my moment.

Now my image of you changes, and itIs me wondering what you will say to yourselfWhen you open up my attachment,When you have images of meTo distract you.

I know you are watching me.I can hear you chuckle. Giggle.I like that.

I like the sounds you make.

Life gets in the way sometimes,But you know that I'll always be here, don't you,Trying to find a way to break the silence.

Even if it is just a giggle as youWatch me apologizeWith my right hand.

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